


Hydrophobia

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Marauders' Era, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-11
Updated: 2009-07-11
Packaged: 2019-01-19 12:31:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12410370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Bold and brazen, Gryffindors are expected not to fear anything, and James Potter does everything he can to live up to this image.But everyone fears something, and what it is that James truely fears is something that even the most cowardly seem able to face without a single fret.





	Hydrophobia

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

 

**Hydrophobia**  
  
  
Every time the waves lapped against the shore, James felt his heart pound a little harder. The Marauders had just finished their last exam, History of Magic, and the Black Lake was just calling out their names, according to Sirius, anyway. It was a stifling hot day, with all of the boys were sweating terribly in their school robes. Nothing would have felt better than to spend an entire afternoon in the still-cool water. But James stayed on the grass, still sweating in his uncomfortably warm school robes. But there was absolutely no way he was going to into that water along with his mates. There was no force on heaven, earth, or hell that could force him to.  
  
James hated water. Well, that wasn't completely true. He did shower, wash his face, andbrush his teeth, but the idea of actually being surrounded, submerged in water, was the most terrifying thing he could imagine. His friends all knew this; that's why none of them gave him a hard time while James stayed on the shore while they splashed around in the Black Lake.  
  
He had been five when it happened, almost six. One of the downsides of having older parents was that they would rarely 'come out to play', mostly because they just didn't have the energy to keep up with a young and active child. They were convinced that nothing bad could possible happen to James as he waded out in the water with them sitting right on the bank. And most likely, anyone else would have agreed with them. The stream wasn't terribly deep; it hadn't even gone up to James' waist. And James wasn't afraid, so his parents didn't feel at all worried about reaching into the beach bag for a book while the other took a nap in the sun.  
  
To this day, even James wasn't exactly sure _how_ it happened. He had been playing near a fallen tree and he must have tripped over a root. He fell face first into the water, but when he tried to push himself up, something held him down. Of course, he began to panic and his breathing became shallow and erratic as he swallowed large amounts of water. The five-year-old mind is extraordinarily primitive, and all James could recall from that time was an intense feeling of fear and knowing 'something bad' was going to happen to him if he stayed under the water for even another second.  
  
His next clear memory was waking up coughing and sputtering with his mother sobbing hysterically and father extracting a long stream of water from James' mouth with his wand. The Potters never went back to that stream again, and that was more than okay with James. In fact, he would have been perfectly happy if he never had to go near another body of water for the rest of his life. When he arrived for his first year at Hogwarts and the students were all carried across the Black Lake, James was convinced everyone in his boat could see him shaking like a leaf. Luckily, his fellow passengers later became two Hufflepuffs and a Ravenclaw, so even if they did notice, they weren't going to tell anyone that really mattered in James' life.  
  
It was easy enough to keep anyone at school from finding out. The only time that he had ever come close was one day in Defense Against the Dark Arts when they were facing Boggarts. When it was finally James' turn, the creature knew right where to go for. Less than a second after he stepped forward, the creature morphed from a giant scorpion stinging itself in the head to a giant mass of water surrounding him and racing in rapid circles. James stopped breathing, almost on instinct, remembering the heavy feeling of his lungs filling with water. However, he was able to get control of himself long enough to cast the lesson's charm, which caused a clone of Snape to appear in the corner of the room. The rushing water left James and burst at the Slytherin, soaking him clear through and making him look like a drowned rat. The entire class burst into laughter and, for all they knew, James was afraid of being caught in a whirlpool instead of just the water itself.  
  
Suddenly, James was distracted from his thoughts by a soaking wet Remus shaking him by the shoulder. "James?"  
  
Startled, James looked up. In his swim clothes, he could see even more of the young werewolf's scars, several of which looked particularly nasty. He couldn't help but wonder whether they had been caused by fighting with some other creature, or if they were just more of Remus' own self-inflicted injuries.  
  
"You looked like you could use some company," his housemate explained, collapsing to the grass and shutting his eyes against the bright sun. Taking his friend's lead, James sprawled out on the shore as well, hoping the cool blades of grass might do something to keep him from getting heat stroke.  
  
"So how have you guys' 'furry little extra curricular activities' been going lately?" Remus asked, wiping the wet strands from his fringe away from his face.  
  
James snickered. Taking the nickname the other Marauders had given to his condition, Remus had taken lately to referring to their studies of the art of becoming Animagi in the same way. He tended to speak about the attempts in an almost condescending sort of way, although James could hardly blame him. They all knew going into this that becoming an Animagus was one of the most difficult forms of magic a person could attempt and it had the potential to go horribly wrong. And with the three of them just mere students and hardly outstanding wizards in any sense, the odds were most certainly against them.  
  
But all the same, it had done absolutely nothing to deter their efforts.  
  
"We _are_ going to figure it out someday, Remus," James insisted. "Someday soon. And then you won't have to be alone anymore at the full moons."  
  
Remus made a noncommittal sound and moved his forearm so it would rest over his eyes, his eyelids evidently not offering him enough relief.  
  
Off in the lake, Sirius and Peter were making a game of dunking one another under the water, although it seemed as though Sirius was getting more fun out of it than Peter was. Still, it had to be much more pleasant that being exposed out in the heavy sunlight, under which Remus was already beginning to sweat. James couldn’t believe it. He hardly thought that Remus would be the one trying to protect _him_ ; not since he and the other Marauders had learned about his 'furry little problem'. Of all the people he ever thought would be coming to someone's aid, Remus Lupin was pretty near the bottom of the list.  
  
Not that Remus was too self-involved or uncaring to do so. It was just with all his own moutainous problems, it would be nothing short of a miracle if he even managed to attend to his own life.  
  
All the same, James was not one to refuse help; at least when it was offered by a true friend. "Thank, Remus," he said quietly.  
  
Remus didn't answer him, but that didn't mean he wasn't listening. In fact, James was quiet certain that his friend's silence was, like everything else Remus had done so far, was for James' own benefit, helping to salvage the Potter boy's strong sense of pride.  
  
And even though no one spoke, James no longer heard the sound of the waves lapping against the shore, or the effects it had on his own nerves.


End file.
